Image by Werner Kunz (werkunz1) via FlickrAbout a week ago, I had this glimpse of positivity. Let me get to the point because I'm depressed today and don't feel like moving; however, I have moved to do the exercises that I'm compelled to do. Though earlier I cheated myself of forty minutes of cardio by only doing eighty minutes.
Right. The point. I can't make a phone call. Right now, in this moment I really want to return a call I missed this afternoon and say yes to a date this weekend with my favorite crush. (I always have fun with him. He's safe.)
I can't call though. I can't have a normal conversation presently. From denying myself nutrition and fluids today, I'm so spaced out. My stomach knots and twists. Even thinking of putting something in my bod nauseates me. I can't.
If I could, I'd tell him that of course I want to go out with him; I'd tell him how much I miss seeing him; and that I really need support and care while I keep trying to get back to level ground. I'd thank him for not giving up on me, but that it's an impossible situation.
For me to allow someone to care about me, as in boyfriend, lover, whatever, would be so selfish and irresponsible. I mean, come on. How huge of an asshole would I be if I invited someone into this mess? It would be different if I were well-ish, but I'm self destructing here.
And I'm keeping myself locked up tight.
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